Left Behind
by RavenHeart101
Summary: "He wasn't sure what was worse. The fact that his brother was dead or the fact that Kurt thought he was crying because of him." Character death. Angst. Major tissue warning. Minor Klaine. Rating for a few swear words.


Left Behind

By: RavenHeart101

Disclaimer: Nope. I don't even want to own this.

Summary: "He wasn't sure what was worse. The fact that his brother was dead or the fact that Kurt thought he was crying because of him."

Warnings: Character death (obviously), lots of angst, tissue warning, and… yeah. That. Sort of Klaine. But that could be friendship, I'm not really sure.

**A: N –** It's one of those angsty days where I should be doing an essay but, instead, I'm writing this. Damn it all.

* * *

_"... Can't help the itch to touch, to kiss, to hold him once again_  
_Now to close his eyes, never open them..." _

_Left Behind - Spring Awakening_

His hands shook as he slid down the wall slowly, his butt connecting with the floor with a nearly silent plop, his head falling into his hands unsteadily. The gel was basically gone by now, wiped away from an hour of his fingers constantly running through it. His face was surprisingly dry; his eyes wide open in shock. Almost a perpetual state of shock. Miss Pillsbury was standing outside of the door, talking on the phone to someone – probably his parents or Mister Schue – her voice a dull murmur in the silence of the room.

The room that was usually so brilliant and vibrant in color. The room where Blaine had smiled and laughed and sang and danced and been happy. Now tainted with this memory.

He didn't know why she had brought him here of all places to tell him the news. Probably because she figured it was the one room he felt safest in. And it was, she wasn't wrong about that. But now… Now he wasn't so sure if he would ever be able to feel truly safe ever again.

This wasn't his first time going through this – he'd done this multiple times. With his grandmother when he was five. With his uncle when he was ten. With Joshua when he was fourteen.

Yet, this one would probably be the hardest of them all.

His safety net was gone.

Evaporated from life as though he was just another simple particle of water.

Blaine and Cooper hadn't always gotten along but that didn't mean that Blaine had wanted his brother to be… gone.

He shut his eyes tightly, trying to push back the onslaught of tears. Blaine was a crier, and he wasn't a pretty crier. But he couldn't cry over this. He wouldn't cry over this. His mother and father… they were the ones that would need to cry over this.

And still, his eyes stung from tears, his lungs heaved in gulps of air, his body began shaking almost painfully, his ears were ringing with Cooper's voice and his bottom lip was trembling.

It felt as though half of his heart was literally gone.

How come it hadn't felt like this with the others? How come this misery hadn't been present until now?

Was it normal for him to feel as though he couldn't breathe?

A silent sob shook his shoulders and Blaine hated himself for the single tear that found its way down his cheek. His teeth dug into his lower lip, his eyes blinking up at the light in an effort to halt all of the tears.

And yet all he could think of was Cooper's laugh. His laugh for fucks sake. The way he would throw his arm around Blaine's shoulder and just laugh over nothing. The way his blue eyes would crinkle at the edges. The way his teeth would almost fucking sparkle. The way his body would just shake and shake with laughter because Cooper was always so fucking happy and Blaine was always the broken one.

So why wouldn't God or whoever the fuck was out there take the broken one and leave the happy one alone? What had Cooper done to deserve dying?

What had Blaine done to deserve this much fucking pain?

He whined in the back of his throat, his hands shaking as they covered his ears.

He didn't want to hear it anymore. He didn't want to feel Cooper's comfortable weight against his side or feel his blue eyed gaze or see his fucking smile.

He just wanted to forget that it ever happened. He wanted to forget where he was and what he was doing there and why this was happening.

There was laughter in the hall and Miss Pillsbury was pushing the door open and walking in slowly, steadily, almost too softly to be heard. She had Mister Schue following after her, the older man kneeling down in front of Blaine and placing a steady hand on his shoulder, ignoring how tightly Blaine was hugging his knees to his chest and how the boy didn't even turn his head to look at him. "Blaine…" His voice was soft too, comforting if it Blaine was someone like Finn or Ryder or someone that was used to his brand of comfort. "Is there someone you want me to call or get? Maybe Sam or Tina?"

And didn't that just hurt a bit more? Because Blaine didn't want either of them.

He wanted the one person he couldn't have anymore.

"Blaine?" Mister Schue prompted, softer this time, his eyes wide and glistening when Blaine slid his over to him. The teacher had a poor excuse for a smile on his lips.

Blaine sucked in a deep breath and said in a voice that was shaking more than he had wanted it to: "What I want I can't have."

Miss Pillsbury made some sort of noise, her sweater falling next to him on the floor before she, herself, followed suit. Her hand was soft and gentle as it rested against his arm, comforting and yet all the more painful. "Blaine… your father is sending his sister to pick you up and bring you back to your house."

Blaine didn't say anything else, his lips shut tightly to keep the tears from falling down again. "Of course," Mister Schue added quietly. "You can stay here as long as you'd like."

Blaine looked across at the floor, not able to stop the memories that were soon to flow into his mind. The dancing and singing. The teasing. The fighting. The way Cooper was so happy to see him and yet so condescending at the same time. The way he had tried to ruffle his hair but had failed. The way he had slung his arm around his shoulder. At the way he had charmed the room with a simple smile.

And then Blaine was back to the present, blinking at the empty piano and there went another tear and a permanent frown on his face. They must have sat there in silence for longer than he had thought, because soon the bell was ringing and Mister Schue was getting up to shoo away students that wanted to spend their free period in the choir room. He went over his schedule in his head; he was in Physics when Miss Pillsbury had taken him that Cooper was de-gone. He would be in… Calculus now. AP Calculus with Tina and Artie….

"Blaine…" Miss Pillsbury started softly, quietly. "Blaine is there anything I can do for you?"

He heaved in a deep breath. She was just trying to help. But Blaine almost wanted to be left alone. He almost wanted to go back to his classes and he almost wanted to go back to worrying about Regionals and how to combat Kitty and Marley's problems. But he couldn't do that. Because all he could hear was Cooper's laugh and all he could feel was Cooper's strong arms and all he could see was Cooper's smiling face and glowing blue eyes and… No… there was nothing that she could do for him.

Yet Blaine was surprised by the feeling that he didn't want her to leave. He had never gotten close to any of the teachers at McKinley, and yet he didn't want Miss Pillsbury to leave.

He was deathly afraid of what would happen were he to be left alone. If he was having trouble breathing now what would happen to him if she were to leave him alone?

Oh God… how was he ever going to be able to sleep at home?

Cooper hadn't lived there for years but they still had a room that was specifically his for whenever he visited. There were so many pictures on the walls. Blaine even had a few himself. On his desk, on his wall…. He even had that stuffed owl Cooper had gotten him when he was three.

Blaine knew what was going to come soon. He wasn't going to be able to remember the way Cooper sounded or the way he felt or the way he smelled. He wasn't going to be able to remember the way his body shook with laughs or the way he used to reprimand Blaine because Blaine could always get better, could always get closer to perfection.

Pretty soon he'd be begging for the laughter that he was cursing. Pretty soon he would want to only be able to see, feel, hear Cooper. And yet here he was… cursing the fact that his older brother had ever existed.

He was a horrible person.

"I'm a horrible brother."

"Oh, Blaine…." Miss Pillsbury's voice sounded heartbroken. "You didn't cause this."

"I feel like part of me is gone." He admitted dully, his hazel eyes filling with tears and his head turning to look at her. "Why does this keep happening to me?" He whispered brokenly. She didn't have an answer, she just had a comforting hand on his arm and sympathetic eyes and words that meant nothing.

She had a shoulder to cry on, perhaps, but Blaine didn't want to cry. So he just used her shoulder to rest his head on and to try and not let the tears fall because she was OCD and if he was to get tears on her he didn't know what he would do. He didn't know what she would do.

She didn't move to put her arm around his shoulders; she just rested her head against his own for a moment and breathed quietly, her hand a gentle weight on his arm.

"_Come on, squirt. Let's turn that frown upside down."_ Blaine pursed his lips tighter and shut his eyes, thinking back to when Cooper had patted his leg on the porch of their house when Blaine was fourteen.

"_I don't want to." Blaine had muttered petulantly. _

_Cooper had simply raised an eyebrow at him. "So… what's wrong with you, kid?" He asked instead. _

"_I'm…" Blaine had frowned, looking down at the snow at his feet. "I'm gay…." _

"_So?" Cooper blinked at him in wonder. "Come on, squirt." He nudged his arm. "That doesn't mean you have to be sad all the time." _

He might have whined in the back of his throat, but mostly he didn't bother swiping at his cheek as a tear tumbled down and then another and another and he was silently crying.

He really did feel as though part of his heart was gone. Part of his soul. Part of his being.

He didn't know what to do.

He just knew that he wanted his brother back.

He wanted to feel his hug and he wanted to see his smile and he wanted to be able to touch him one more time because this wasn't fair. This just wasn't fair.

"Do you want water or something?" Mister Schue asked him quietly, sliding next to him on the other side. Trying to be helpful.

Blaine licked at his lips, heaved in a deep breath, tried to stop him from saying the one thing that he really did want.

"I want Cooper." But that didn't seem to stop his mouth from saying the words anyway.

Mister Schue made to pull him into a hug but Blaine flinched away. He could still feel Cooper's comfortable weight on his shoulders and he didn't want to lose that. Not for anyone.

"Blaine…."

"I want my big brother." And there he was. Crying openly. Crying disgustingly. Sobbing his own goddamn heart out and it hurt. Oh God did it hurt.

Wasn't he supposed to feel something when his brother died? Like he had lost something?

But Blaine hadn't known. He was completely oblivious. And, even now, _even now_ he couldn't believe that it was true. Not fully.

But this couldn't be a joke. Why would anyone joke about something like this? That was just cruel and unusual and Blaine had been through his fair share of bullying but this would be taking the cake.

For a long moment he hoped that was all it was. A horrible prank by a bully.

It wouldn't hurt this much if it was, would it?

He couldn't breathe and it felt as though something was pulling itself from his chest. He crossed his arms around his chest firmly, trying to keep it locked in. And yet it kept trying to go away. Kept trying to leave him alone with all of this pain and sorrow and he didn't want to be alone.

He couldn't lose the one person that had been there through everything. The one person that had left but had come back and had never really been gone.

Not until now and God didn't that hurt to think about? Didn't it hurt to have it shoved in his face that he would never be able to hug Cooper again? That he would never be able to hear Cooper's veiled criticisms. That he would never be able to touch his skin again. That he would never be able to see him smile or hear him laugh or feel his heart beat against his own like he had liked to feel when he was younger. He would never be sung a lullaby by his brother again. He wouldn't be able to hear him singing in anything other than that fucking commercial.

Miss Pillsbury was pulling him in closer, tighter and he was pushing away, scrambling to his feet and out of the room. They called after him but he didn't really care all that much.

No one was in the halls – all in classes by now. He was alone. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be alone.

He just wanted….

He wanted his older brother.

His locker door flew open and he grabbed the one picture he had of his older brother off of the metal, hugging it to his chest and, once again, falling to the ground, sorrow over taking his soul and tears leaking down his cheeks. How is it that one person could survive this much pain? He was scared of getting tears on the picture and ruining it so he hid it against his quivering stomach. _"You're gonna make yourself sick, kiddo." Cooper's hand brushed against his curls and his face smiled gently at him, his blue eyes filled with concern. _

He opened his eyes and Cooper wasn't there.

He just cried harder.

"Oh my…." He heard a quiet gasp, someone he was sure he was supposed to recognize but Blaine didn't pay them any mind. He heard heals clicking on the floor, probably Miss Pillsbury and Mister Schue running to catch up with him.

"Blaine you have got to stop this!" The voice was angry, though not rightfully so. Snapped and yet full of concern.

His eyes shot up, their watering depths catching sight of Kurt and Rachel in all their New York glory. For some reason that just made Blaine cry harder.

Maybe it was because Kurt wasn't making any of this pain go away. Maybe it was for something else entirely. He wasn't all that sure.

"Kurt." Mister Schue and Miss Pillsbury had joined them now and they were cautious and stern in ways that they had never quite been before.

Blaine would have been proud if it wasn't for something like this.

"I know you're sorry, Blaine! But this…" Kurt gestured uselessly at the halls around them. "This isn't going to solve anything!"

Why was he yelling at him? What had he done to deserve being yelled at? What had he done this time? He thought he had done everything right for once.

He hugged Cooper's picture tighter.

He just wanted his big brother to tell Kurt to go away and to tell him that everything was going to be okay and to just hug him and let him cry.

"Kurt!" Mister Schue yelled at him in frustration.

"You cheated! If anyone should be acting like this it should be me!" Kurt stressed in apparent annoyance.

But he wasn't really annoyed. Blaine knew annoyed Kurt. This was hurt Kurt.

But that didn't mean that it didn't hurt Blaine anyway.

Couldn't he see what was happening? Didn't he know how much pain Blaine was in?

Didn't he even care?

"You really are a bitch sometimes." Blaine said without thinking, his tears a steady flow down his cheeks.

"_What_?"

"My brother is d-d-_dead_." His voice broke. "And you're yelling at me for _no_ reason."

"Oh God…." Kurt's face paled in realization, his hand over his mouth. "I didn't…."

"I left you alone. I let you go on that date with that Paul guy and I didn't complain. I let you move on and it hurt but this hurts so much more." He didn't know what he was saying anymore but it was as though the words were just flowing from his mouth. A cascade of meaningless phrases.

"I am…" Kurt shook his head and took a step forward.

"I feel like a part of me is missing. And that there's no way to put it back." Blaine hugged the picture tighter and fell to pieces. He wanted a hug. He wanted something. He wanted his brother. But he just wanted something.

He didn't know what he wanted.

"I want to forget this ever happened." Kurt fell to his knees in front of him.

"I didn't… I didn't know."

"I want to go back in time and I want to go back to when I was fourteen and I came out to him on the porch and I want him to tell me that I don't deserve to be sad." Blaine folded in on himself.

He couldn't hear Cooper's laugh anymore. He couldn't feel his arm over his shoulders anymore.

He couldn't see his smile anymore.

Kurt's hand was cold in his own but Blaine didn't move to pull him closer or to pull himself closer. He just cried. And he cried. And he held onto the picture and he prayed that this was all some sort of dream. He prayed that he would wake up and this would be over. That he would wake up and Cooper would be sitting on the end of his bed with a squirt gun in his hand pointing it at him and telling him to put his hands up because he was under arrest.

He wanted to be able to run into his brother's bedroom and curl up next him on his bed and have him tell him that it was just a nightmare and that it would all be okay in the end.

* * *

The funeral was what made it real.

He was standing in the front row between his parents. There was crying all around him, people he knew and didn't know. People that knew his brother and people that knew his parents. A few people there that knew him.

Wes and David. Sam and Tina. Rachel. Santana. Quinn. Puck. Mike. Brittany. Burt. Carole.

Kurt.

But Blaine was stuck in the front row, barely holding himself together.

His mother was crying openly beside him and his father was prepping himself for his speech.

Blaine wished he had it in him to sing like him and Cooper used to joke about when they were younger. He just wasn't sure if he could ever sing again when he didn't have someone to call and have tell him that he had been "just a bit sharp there, squirt" or that he needed to "do more than just a side-step" or to whisper to him that he "perfect. Just perfect" when he thought Blaine wasn't listening.

He pursed his lips together and a few tears dripped from his eyes.

It had been three days. Three whole days since that damn car accident.

And still he didn't believe that this wasn't all a dream.

"My son…" His father began from the podium at the front of the church. "He is-was a very lively boy. Always had a smile on his face. Knew how to charm a room in a matter of seconds." A few people in the church chuckled. "I remember when he told me he was dropping out of law school. For what? I asked him. To be an actor. He told me with that brilliant smile of his. As though it was no big deal." His father's voice choked on the last word but he took a deep breath, steeling himself for the next few lines. "That was the kind of boy my son is-was." He seemed as physically pained as Blaine was. He remembered hearing once that parents weren't supposed to outlive their children.

And he thought this was painful for him. "My son was taken from me too early. Too soon." He took a deep breath. "He wasn't given enough time to put smiles on everyone's face like he did mine each and every day. He wasn't there to see his brother graduate." And here is where he actually broke.

And here's where Blaine broke too, closing his eyes and twisting his suit shirt in his hands, feeling the tears slip down his cheeks as he looked over at his brother's coffin.

Beautiful. White with a blue trim. It was open. His body inside it all dressed up and primed to perfection. Cooper would have hated it.

Would have joked about it.

"Never got to marry that wonderful woman Ashley he had been dating for the past year."

He would have nudged Blaine and whispered something in his ear.

"He was taken too soon."

He would have put his arm over Blaine's shoulder and tugged him closer.

"No parent is supposed to outlive their child."

He would have rested his cheek on Blaine's hair.

"No brother is supposed to have to bury their older brother at eighteen."

He would have placed his hand in Blaine's and he would have squeezed it tightly, whispering that he was there and that it was okay for him to fall apart.

"It's okay." A hand slid into his own, squeezing tightly and bringing him back to the here and now.

Slim and soft, but strong and trustworthy and Blaine squeezed back tighter, leaning his head forward and letting the tears flow and the sobs wrack his body. His mother didn't look at him – couldn't because of how much he looked like his brother.

He didn't hear the rest of his father's speech. He didn't hear anything else.

He just looked at his brother's coffin and realized that this was it. This was it. He was really gone.

He wasn't coming back.

"It's okay, Blaine." Kurt said again but he let go when Blaine followed his mother to say goodbye to his brother.

She took a moment, being led away by her best friend and then it Blaine.

Cooper looked so happy even in death. So calm. So peaceful. Blaine was almost expecting him to jump up out of the coffin and start tap dancing because that's the way Cooper would do things. Pull it off as a bid for him learning how to act in a certain scene or something like that. They would all hate him for it but Blaine could never hate him. Never ever. He would hug him after punching him and cry into his shirt and feel his heart beat and know that everything was okay.

But Cooper didn't move to get up and Blaine didn't move to walk away.

How could he say goodbye to someone like Cooper?

He knew there was a line of people that wanted to say goodbye too but this wasn't like Joshua. This wasn't like his grandmother. This was his brother. His anchor. His big brother.

And it hurt so much.

If he said goodbye it would be real. He would be gone.

He would never be coming back.

"I need you." He whispered to his brother's stoic face. He bit his bottom lip, ignored the way the priest placed a hand on his shoulder and cautiously let his hand brush against Cooper's cheek.

He was cold to the touch. Cold in the way corpses are cold.

But he didn't look like corpse. He looked like he was sleeping.

"Don't leave me." He begged almost.

He heaved a deep breath. That was a tall order and it was something almost impossible for Cooper to have ever granted. And there was a line of people. He couldn't stay here forever.

"I love you." He said with conviction, even though his voice shook and he leaned forward, slipping the letter he had written him into the jacket that his immobile body had on. He touched his hair one more time and then let the priest lead him away, crying the whole time.

He was deposited to his parents but his father didn't really know what to do with him, hugging a sobbing wife himself.

But he wasn't alone, a pair of strong arms sliding around his waist and pulling him close.

"He's gone." He whispered brokenly, ignoring the stares of those he knew. Those he didn't know.

"I know." Kurt brushed back his curls some with a gentle hand. He didn't try to say anything else, just cradling his head into his shoulder and humming gently.

It was almost comical how their relationship seemed to circle around death.

Maybe that meant something about them. But Kurt was the only one that made him feel remotely as safe as Cooper had and Blaine wasn't willing to give that away for anything. "I miss him."

"I know, baby." Kurt rested his cheek against his hair, a tear of his own hitting Blaine's shoulder.

"Please don't go."

"I won't."

* * *

**A: N –** Oh God why do I do this to myself? I have plenty of tissues. Plenty. And a mourning corner if anyone wants to join.


End file.
